Heretic

by Philip C. Quaintrell

  “I take it there’s a reason you picked this particular spot on the whole planet.” ALF joined him in the red field.

  “I wanted to see it with my own eyes. It’s different.”

  “The cube built the Gommarian using the nanocelium Savrick stole from Kaldor. It consumed the raw material of the mountain and converted it into more nanocelium. The Gommarian literally rose out of the mountain. Then it destroyed Kaldor and everything else.”

  Naydaalan came to stand on the other side of Kalian. “Savrick lived on this planet?”

  “For a time,” Kalian replied. “You see the dark rock, near the base of the mountain? There is a cave just to the right of it and down a little.”

  “Savrick’s memories are extremely accurate in your mind,” Naydaalan observed.

  “Too accurate…” ALF commented, looming over them both.

  “How long until the subconducer is ready to juice me up again?” Kalian asked, ignoring the AI’s comment.

  “It will take a little longer than last time. I'm trying to bring other systems online at the same time - all of which require a certain amount of power.”

  “Well,” Kalian rolled his neck and rotated his shoulders, “you blow out the cobwebs and I’ll go for a stroll.”

  ALF turned a condescending eye on the human. “I suggest you spend your time in meditation. I want your next jump to be a different planet in this system. You’re going to need rest before then.”

  Kalian brought up his clenched fist and exhaled. Everything felt different to him now. The concept of sleep or rest felt redundant to him, as he opened his senses to the alien surroundings and welcomed the input. He could feel the strength of the gravity and the speed of the planet, the oxygen being supplied by the vegetation and the carbon dioxide being inhaled in turn. The planet was moving and breathing, just as any being in the universe did.

  “Kalian?” Naydaalan had taken a step closer.

  Time was starting to feel like a strange idea to Kalian, who knew he could have stood perfectly still and examined every molecule of the planet, even if it took him millennia. How long had he been standing there now? How long had he contemplated Hadrok?

  “Kalian.” ALF rested a heavy hand on his armoured shoulder. “You have to focus on the now. Keep yourself grounded.”

  A smile crept across Kalian’s face. “I don't want to stay grounded. I want to let go…”

  The planet’s surface dropped away in a second, leaving Naydaalan and ALF behind to become smaller and smaller. Kalian flew into the sky at speeds that would render most unconscious. Gravity lost control of him and Kalian rolled this way and that, enjoying his new found freedom. Any fear of heights disappeared, as his mind reassessed the definition of distance, speed and time. He howled into the air, forgetting for the moment all his worries and troubles and simply letting go. After a moment’s introspection, Kalian wasn't sure whether he was propelling himself with telekinesis or manipulating the effect of gravity around him. Only once had he defied the laws of physics this way, but that had been under a moment of extreme stress, in which Li’ara’s life hung in the balance.

  The mountain Savrick had called home was directly underneath his flying form. His curiosity won over and he immediately changed course using a manoeuvre that would have snapped most ships in half. The ground expanded and rushed up to meet him until his feet gently touched down at the entrance to the mountain’s cave system. Looking over his shoulder, ALF’s ship was no bigger than his thumbnail.

  Cool air blew out of the cave, beckoning him in. Kalian strode into the darkness and altered the structure of his eyes to allow for perfect vision in the dark. He never stopped to decide on his path, but simply followed his instincts, which he now understood to be his subconscious mind, filtering Savrick’s memories up to the surface.

  The cave Esabelle had once called home was not what Kalian had been expecting. There was no evidence that anyone had ever lived here. It was a lot to expect anything after two-hundred thousand years, but the sight of being completely barren saddened Kalian in a way that surprised him. His keen eyes soon found the only aspect of the cave that wasn't natural. Across the jagged wall, where Esabelle had been penned in during Savrick’s hunts, was a variety of ancient child-like drawings. Kalian had seen similar drawings on Earth, where early man had experimented with different forms of expression and storytelling.

  With sensitive Terran fingers, Kalian ran his hand over the random drawings. He could detect the artificial material against the natural rock and knew instantly it was something akin to chalk.

  Sitting in the same spot Esabelle once had, Kalian sighed and took in the sights and sounds of the cave. Out of respect to Esabelle, he decided to stay a while and meditate, so that he could look back on his lessons with her. It dawned on him that if he wanted, he could, in fact, relive his time with Esabelle, as if he were actually with her again.

  You could see Li’ara again…

  Kalian shook his head, discarding the thought. He wasn’t ready to open that door, not yet…

  Chapter 22

  Telarrek accompanied Uthor onto the bridge of the Sentinel, where Charge Ilo, the Laronian captain, was busy directing her crew. Having travelled to the system, in which the secret planet lay, aboard the golden Marillion, the Novaarian was happy to have left the ship occupied by the Highclave. Their ignorance and air of superiority were becoming more than even the ambassador could bear.

  Uthor’s ship, the Nautallon, glided by, revealing the water world that lay in the distance, several hundred thousand miles beyond the Sentinel’s viewport. Between the planet and the green ship was an entire fleet of Conclave security vessels, each armed to the teeth while they escorted the transport ship huddled between the fleet. Of course, even Telarrek knew that the fleet’s destructive capabilities were dwarfed by the Sentinel and the Marillion. Both ships were in possession of a full complement of planet-breaker missiles.

  The transport ship grew in size as it flew by the viewport. Telarrek felt one of his stomachs flip at the thought of the ship’s content. The Novaarian was thrilled to know that Li’ara was indeed alive and onboard that ship, but her companions filled Telarrek with dread. Twelve Gomar were about to step foot on this ship since they had no way of incapacitating any of them. The ambassador tried not to dwell on the fact that these twelve beings had the collective power to eviscerate the entire fleet.

  “Charge Ilo, report.” Uthor’s commanding voice demanded attention.

  The Laronian captain stood from her chair. “Apologies for not meeting you in the hangar, High Charge. As you can imagine, things are somewhat delicate.”

  “No apologies necessary, Charge. Before the Marillion hit sub-space, it was reported that the prisoners had already surrendered.”

  “That appears to be the case. The Sentinel hasn't long been in the system, High Charge, but after taking control, it has been reported to me that the fourteen prisoners in question were detained aboard the Galiant and searched. The Gomar do not carry any weapons that can be detained, but the two humans were in possession of a great deal of weaponry, especially the notorious bounty hunter, Roland North.” Charge Ilo slowly licked her blue lips, as if contemplating her next words. “Also, High Charge, the Gomar have a prisoner of their own… the one identified as Malekk.”

  Telearrek’s eyes widened in surprise. The infected Terran had been reported by Kalian to be immensely powerful.

  “What was he doing here? Does everyone know about this secret planet?” Uthor asked, incredulously.

  “It appears he was trying to kill the Gomar, sir. Reports from a Doctor Bal indicate that it took all of them to subdue him, but Charge Q’ol of the Galiant informs me that the Gomar refuse to hand the Terran over. They say it’s imperative that Malekk is left with them.”

  “This complicates things…” Uthor’s rocky brow creased into a frown.

  “We have already stripped his ship of all relevant data. It appears he came from a system on the edge of Conclave
territory. Judging by the ship in which he travelled, the journey must have taken some time. We don't know why he used this vessel, but we assume there is something more substantial on the other end. It won't take long for one of our ships to investigate; I dispatched the Victory some time ago.”

  “Very good, Charge Ilo.”

  An Atari crew member turned to face the trio in his chair. “Charge Ilo, the transport ship has docked in the hangar. Awaiting orders.”

  “I take it your cells are empty, Charge?” Uthor asked.

  “Wait,” Telarrek interjected. “They must be given a chance to explain. In all their time in the Conclave, have the humans ever broken our rules to do anything but help us? If Li’ara Ducarté is with them, I am certain their reason for freeing the Gomar is noble.”

  Uthor sighed, which sounded more like a growl. “I agree with you, Telarrek. But we cannot ignore the fact that twelve of the very same race who attacked the capital, killing thousands, are now conscious and free. Measures must be taken.”

  “This ship may be the crown of the fleet, Uthor, but I know it does not have the power to stop the Gomar. If they wanted to fight we would have arrived in a graveyard. They want to speak,” Telarrek insisted.

  Uthor looked away, considering his options. “Charge Ilo, have your helmsman contact the Marillion. Instruct them to keep their distance, and should we drop out of communication, even for a moment, they are to destroy the Sentinel without hesitation.”

  Charge Ilo paused, no doubt being hit by the gravity of their situation and the potential power of the beings she had just allowed aboard her ship. The Laronian nodded and turned away to give her orders.

  Uthor met Telarrek’s golden eyes and silently communicated the trust he was putting in the Novaarian. They were the oldest of friends, but now Telarrek was asking the Raalak to put other lives in jeopardy, including their own.

  “Well there’s no point in holding ceremony,” Uthor announced. “Charge Ilo, have our guests brought to the bridge.”

  Li’ara walked side-by-side with Roland, both stripped of their weapons and scanned on a cellular level. It was promising that they had been granted permission to board the Sentinel, a ship full of Conclave secrets they didn't want the humans or the Gomar to learn about. Looking back at the twelve beings, all covered in hulking black armour, Li’ara supposed she was actually walking around with twelve very big bombs. Who could say no to them?

  “Can you still feel the Rackham?” Li’ara asked quietly.

  “Yep,” Roland replied. “I can't be sure how close, but the signal hasn't disappeared.”

  It was always good to have other options.

  The group was escorted by several teams of Conclave security, but the only security worth noting was the Gomar, who continued to levitate Malekk’s body in the middle of their group. The infected Terran had yet to gain consciousness, but Sef had informed Li’ara that they were all, in some way, focused on keeping him that way.

  The doors parted, revealing a pristine bridge, decorated with colourful holograms and tall, glass screens, overlaid in a web of data. A crew of every race in the Conclave moved around the spacious bridge, relaying commands and data to different parts of the ship. It reminded Li’ara of her time aboard the Gommarian, when some sense of peace had been achieved.

  “Greetings of peace.” Telarrek stepped out from behind a glass screen and held out all four of his arms.

  “Telarrek…” Li’ara couldn't help but smile, more than happy to see the friendly face. The two embraced, with all four of Telarrek’s arms wrapping around her back.

  “How?” the Novaarian stepped back and asked. “How did you survive? I saw the footage of the remains… nothing could have survived that explosion, it is impossible.”

  Li’ara smiled and squeezed the ambassador’s long fingers affectionately. “When you have a Gomar looking out for you, impossible starts to lose all meaning.”

  The Novaarian looked beyond her, to the amassing group of armoured beings. There was a level of distrust in his eyes, upon sighting the variety of tattooed faces and menacing helmets. That distrust turned to fear when he glimpsed Malekk, floating in the middle.

  “Is nobody happy to see me?” Roland held up his hands.

  Four heavy feet approached the bounty hunter. “Oh, I’m happy to see you, Mr. North.” Uthor towered over Roland. “I have a special cell in a Raalakian maximum security prison with your name on it.”

  Considering he was standing in the shadow of a Raalak, Roland replied with an arrogant smile. “That sounds lovely, but I’m afraid I’m not a member of the Conclave, so… you’ll just have to send me back to the human population.”

  Uthor dipped his face until it was inches from Roland’s. “Things change, Mr. North.”

  Li’ara perked up. “They do? Does that mean the Highclave are considering our membership?”

  Uthor returned to his full height and looked out over the Gomar. “That depends on what you say next, Miss Ducarté.”

  Roland groaned. “You’re gonna’ have to explain the whole damn thing again!” The bounty hunter turned to the blue Laronian, who appeared to be the captain of the ship. “Does this place have a bar?”

  Li’ara blinked slowly in an effort to stop herself from offering the bounty hunter an expletive reply. Having given Roland an explanation of the last three months, she now felt confident in supplying the relevant information in the best possible way - after all, her current audience was far more important.

  “We’re all on the same side, High Charge.” It seemed like a good way to start.

  “You speak for them?” Uthor nodded at the Gomar with his flat head.

  “Sef is their leader,” Li’ara gestured at the broad Gomar, “but their concentration is required to keep Malekk docile. They have given me permission to speak for them.”

  There was a commotion behind Uthor and Telarrek, with the Laronian captain responding to three of her crew, who were all directing her attention to a single screen.

  “Charge Ilo, report.” Uthor swung his mighty rock-like legs around.

  “The Victory has emerged from sub-space, High Charge.” Ilo glanced back at her crew. “Put it on the main-viewer.”

  A hologram was emitted at the front of the bridge, hiding the viewport from sight. They were all seeing through the external cameras of the Conclave security vessel, Victory. The ship was moving in on a very familiar object.

  “That’s a Starforge…” Li’ara announced.

  “Specs, Ilo?” Uthor’s expression was impossible to discern.

  Charge Ilo leaned over her helmsman and absorbed the Victory’s data. “It’s massive, sir. It looks to be identical to the construct found in the Helteron Cluster.”

  Telarrek cupped his long jaw. “How many did Protocorps make?”

  Uthor audibly ground his teeth. “Charge Ilo, have your analysts mine the data uploaded from Shandar. I want them to specifically search for anything relating to Starforges.” The Raalak looked down on Roland again. “This would be easier if you hadn't killed Kel-var Tionis…”

  Roland shrugged. “My finger slipped.”

  “Sir!” Ilo redirected their attention to the hologram.

  The Starforge was charging up, with giant bolts of purple lightning firing around the hull. The two pointed ends of the crescent-moon lit up and expelled more of the electrified bolts, until all the light show began to coalesce in the empty space, in the middle of the station.

  “The Victory is asking for orders, High Charge.” Ilo looked at her superior expectantly.

  Target any of the three starrilliums on the outer hull. Without them, it will lose power.

  Li’ara couldn't have mistaken Sef’s voice for anyone. “Tell them to target the starrilliums on the hull,” she interrupted.

  It was too late for orders.

  The lightning stopped charging around the hull and the epicentre of the fusion expanded into one black mass, blocking out the stars on the other side. The Starforge ha
d opened up a hole in sub-space. What came through from the other side appeared to suck the air out of the Sentinel’s bridge, leaving them all in stunned silence.

  The ship that emerged filled the entire space of the massive Starforge, almost scraping the sides and destroying the station.With a pointed end protruding first, the gargantuan ship was shaped like the tip of a spear. Its surface wasn't smooth, as the Gommarian had been, but was similar to that of a construction site as if the vessel was made of a network of beams and pipes with no covering.

  “Is that as big as I think it is?” Roland asked in disbelief.

  “Charge Ilo?” Uthor prompted.

  The captain hesitated. “It’s three times the size of the Sentinel, almost as big as the Marillion. Beyond that our scanners are unable to penetrate the hull.”

  Li’ara could hear Sef in her mind again. “Look at its design.” She pointed at the image. “That’s not Terran in origin. It’s one of them!” Li’ara looked back at Malekk in disgust. “This is what we’ve been trying to warn the Highclave about since we got here! They’re real, and now they’re here!”

  Uthor nodded slowly, but never took his dark eyes off the alien ship. “Order the Victory to open fire - full complement.”

  It won't be enough… Sef spoke into Li’ara’s head.

  Uthor continued his trade of commands. “Have the third and second fleet coordinate. I want them surrounding the capital immediately. Contact the fourth fleet and alert them to our status; they’re to meet up with the first,” Uthor nodded at the armada of ships beyond the Sentinel, “and provide support to the Victory.”

  The main-viewer flared, as the Victory opened fire with everything it had. The Nexus Class ship was among the largest in the Conclave arsenal, with enough firepower to crack open a large moon. The alien vessel took every blow, not even bothering to raise shields. The entire bridge stopped what they were doing and stared at the display. It had been a very long time since any Conclave vessel had emptied its entire munitions supply.